


Living Is Easy With Eyes Closed

by Savageandwise



Series: Drabbles: We Will Never Be Here Again [11]
Category: Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Acid, Angst, M/M, McLennon, insidious, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 02:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18174881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageandwise/pseuds/Savageandwise
Summary: 'These days John is smoke, he's mist, he's ether.' Paul and Cynthia express their concern for John during his acid phase.





	Living Is Easy With Eyes Closed

**Author's Note:**

> Word of the day was insidious.

He’s mild as spring weather most days. Paul misses the tempest of John's cruel attention. The sting of his jealousy. The frantic scramble of competition, sheathed in a facade of reserved niceness, soft as velvet gloves. Cynthia corners him one night at some premiere or another. She's awkward in her evening gown, hair stiff and glistening with spray. 

“He's not John,” Cyn says softly, her hand warm and a little damp on Paul's wrist.

“Who else would he be?”

“You know what I mean.”

Paul does. He misses the urgency of John's kiss, the quick, starburst gleam of lust in his eye.

“He won't even…” Cyn flushes prettily, her cheeks red as apples.

“Hush, love,” Paul says, covering her hand with his. 

“Does he...? Has he…?” she flounders. “He won't touch me.”

Paul looks down at their shoes. His scuffed black boots and her beaded, embroidered evening slippers with silver buckles, toe to toe. They never speak of this. She must be half demented with worry.

“He won't tell me anything,” she whispers. “You'll talk to him, won't you, Paul?”

He nods distractedly. These days John is smoke, he's mist, he's ether. He's still John though, you can't make him do anything he doesn't want to. 

Paul makes sure he visits Kenwood on a day Cynthia is out. He's is still in bed with the covers pulled up over his head. Paul kneels down and pulls back the blanket and John blinks owlishly, rolls to one side to make space for him. Paul kicks off his shoes and climbs into bed. He rubs his face against Paul's chest sleepily, yawns like a cat. 

“Come to make me seize the day?” he murmurs.

Paul clenches his hands in John's pyjama top and presses his mouth to John's. 

“Let's start with this.”


End file.
